


Sweet Dreams

by Imiaslavie



Series: Spell Book For Kinky Ones [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual Somnophilia, Everything is consensual, M/M, Somnophilia, Spells & Enchantments, the first half of the fic is humor and sweet things so you can read only it if you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6332812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imiaslavie/pseuds/Imiaslavie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was the one choosing the spells, but he really wanted Cas to choose one too. After weeks of nagging both Cas and Sam and disrupting the peace in the bunker, Dean finally gets Cas to tell him what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags!
> 
> It was supposed to be a third installment of the series, but I really wanted to explore this kink first (consider this spell the third one in the series. The second spell they used was (or will be, when I will write it) a spell to enlarge Cas cock. Wait for it :)

Dean had been nagging Cas for weeks. Following, interrupting, annoying the hell out of him. And all that – because of the book. He would offer it to him over the breakfast, read it like some kind of bedtime story before the night, just whine about it during the day.

All because Cas had been refusing to choose a spell for himself.

After two first quite successful spells they had decided that spell book was a gift from God (well, Dean decided, Cas called it blasphemy) and was ought to be used frequently. They also had agreed to check the section of sex spells slowly, gradually opening new pages, just to have that sweet hope to find something super exciting one day.

But the thing was – only Dean had been choosing which spells they were to use, and it wasn’t bugging him per se, but after he had realized they had been exploring only his kinks, he had felt kinda guilty. That’s why one day he had started to ask Cas to choose the spell himself. And Cas, for some reasons unknown, refused. “I love the spells you are choosing, Dean,” he had said, smiling. Dean knew Cas wasn’t a kinky bastard, but, really, there had to be something.

After realizing that Cas won’t give in, Dean had change tactics. He had started complaining to Sam. Loudly. With Cas in the room.

“He won’t use the damn book, Sammy!”

“I feel neglected, Sammy, Cas doesn’t want to do unspeakable things to me!”

“Cas doesn’t want the book to help him explore his dirty secret wishes and wreck me on every surface in our bunker. Sammy, what do I do?”

Of course, Sam was suffering, and that was the point. At first poor little brother was begging Dean to stop, but after realizing he won’t budge, Sam had decided to beg Cas to stop Dean. To no avail. After the whole week of Dean whining and Sam raging and Cas blushing, Sam finally lost it.

He grabbed the book, thrown it to the Cas and said, steel in his voice:

“I don’t care if you want to turn him into the horse, make him grow an additional vagina or de-age yourself to a fifteen year old and ‘do the unspeakable things to him’. Just use. The damn. Book.”

The unsaid ‘and leave me alone’ was really obvious. Cas let out a heavy sigh and looked at Dean. Dean had a strange expression on his face, like he felt triumphant, but wasn’t sure if he had a right to. Cas sighed again and stood up.

“Okay. Let’s go upstairs.” And that was it. He couldn’t take this circus any longer, and Sam definitely didn’t deserve it too. Better get this over with, suffer for a couple of weeks of Dean looking at him like he was a complete weirdo with un-fun kinks, and then live in peace.

Dean mouthed a subtle ‘awesome’ and scurried towards the stairs so fast, he almost tripped over his own feet. Cas let out a small sad chuckle; seeing this eagerness in his lover was endearing, but scary. Dean didn’t know what Cas wanted, and when he would…

Dean jumped on their bed with a strange noise, which, Cas suspected, was a muffled squeak. 

“Come on, lay it on me, Cas!”

“You won’t like it, Dean. I really don’t want to voice this stupid idea.” Cas sighed. Again. Boy, he was tired.

“Oh, babe, come on.” Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him on the bed beside him. “I’m sure it’s cool. I mean, we've been doing all the sorts of freaky stuff for last month, did we not?”

“Yes, but…”

“No buts. Come on. Spill. Here, I even…” Dean snatched a book from Cas’ hands and, using the bright blue bookmark, found the section they needed. “Here. Show me which one, and I’ll tell you why it’s awesome.”

Cas looked down at slightly yellowed page. A fancy, all curves and additional lines and dots and bright red ink, letter _A_ caught his attention as always. He really loved the design of this book and this section specifically, because some spells had rather detailed illustrations. But…

“'Tis not the right section,” he mumbled, fingers playing with the bookmark.

“What? Didn’t catch that.” Dean shifted closer.

“I said,” in much more clear and loud voice, “'tis not,” Cas flipped about a half pages with an angry motion, “the right,” he flipped some more till he found the desired page and cringed, “section.”

Fancy just like _‘A’_ , the deep gray _‘D’_ stared at him.

 _‘Deep sleep for troubled souls’_ , the title said. Fuck. Why the fuck did he even think about this?

“Hey…” Dean called, his voice now worried. He obviously picked up on Cas’ mood. His hand caressed Cas’ forearm with long strokes. “It’s okay. Just tell me, whatever this is, tell me.”

Cas bit his lower lip, unsure how to voice, but knowing there already was no turning back.

“Remember… one morning, at that fancy hotel in Maine? All other hotels were booked because of the holidays, and we had to go to the place with very expensive suites. And they didn’t take credit cards because of some system malfunction and we barely scraped enough money to get a room. And all we got was single. Although it was bigger than standard single and very, very comfortable. And… and we had to snuggle very close to each other, and you didn’t even care that we almost fell off the bed, how small it still was for two grown man-”

“Cas, I do remember. Maybe you can, I don’t know, get to the point?”

“Okay, Okay. So, you were very much tired after the hunt and slept like a dead person. And I woke up before you, which really doesn’t happen often, and you were lying in my arms, your back against my chest. And, uh, I woke up, well…”

“Bloody horny?” Dean helped, a smile on his face. Yes, sometimes this happened: Cas would wake up and he would be so horny he would get into the kitchen, forget about the coffee and grind against Dean’s body right there, near the fridge, not caring about Sam, because the walk back to the bedroom would be too damn long, but caring about getting the sweet release as soon as possible. 

“Bloody horny,” Cas echoed, nodding. “And, uh, you were sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you, so I decided it wouldn’t harm if I, well… used your help without you knowing for a couple of minutes, because you were obviously going to wake up anyway. And I…” Cas flushed. He liked dirty talking, never had shied from it, but right now wasn’t the time or place for such words, and he felt himself blushing a little. “I grinded against your spine and ass, kissed your shoulders and, uh, stroked your cock too, because thank God you were naked, and I wanted to feel you harden… And you started waking up just after a minute, pushed your hips back into mine, and you said something nice, and finally hardened in my hand… Well, I think you remember the rest.”

“Damn right I remember,” Dean answered, his voice a little bit hoarse. Cas chuckled: of course Dean would get… excited listening to this and remembering. Dean cleared his throat. “So… your point? You think there’s something wrong with touching your sleeping partner? I assure you, it’s fine, this is the best way to wake up! I mean, you start a day and you're already feeling awesome, your body tingling and hot, and hands all in the right places, and you just slowly waki-”

“Well I didn’t want you to!” Cas cried.

Dean closed his mouth. He stared at Cas. Cas stared back.

“I didn’t want you to wake up,” repeated Cas. “I liked it when you weren’t moving, when I caressed your palm with my fingers and you didn’t grip back, when I played with your cock and it was soft and unresponsive. I liked you lying still and with no sound. Really. Really. Liked it.”

Silence fell. No sounds except for breathing and rustling of pages under Cas’ nervous fingers. He wasn’t looking at Dean anymore, just tracing the lines of _‘H’_ over and over, as if trying to memorize a mess of complicated lines and swirls.

Dean’s hand, until now unmoving on other man’s forearm, slightly tightened its grip.

“So… what spell did you find for that? That one?”

Cas wanted to rotate the book so Dean could read it himself, but remembered that he didn’t know this variant of language. He nodded, cleared his throat.

“It’s a spell that helps with sleeping problems. If I understand correctly, it puts body into deep sleep for twelve hours. Like, really deep sleep. No stimulation, whether it would be sound or temperature or touch or even pain, would wake you up. And reflexes would stop working too, all reactions would. It’s supposed to be healing sleep, full relaxation. Obviously invented for medical purposes, but… Well, of course I had to come and ruin it with my sick fantasies. I didn’t joke when I said you wouldn’t like it, Dean. You physically wouldn’t be able.”

“I wouldn’t dislike it either.”

Cas’ head shot up. Did Dean..? No, he couldn’t mean it like that, he just…

“I mean, I’ll just sleep, right?” Dean continued. “And when I wake up I would feel like I was locked up in SPA for a year. Don’t see any cons here.”

“How about not knowing what is being done to your body? How is that for a con?”

Warmth in Dean’s gaze was overwhelming.

“You say it like I don’t trust you, Cas. Which I do. I know you would do nothing but love my body. Love and worship I even might say, these are the words you once used. Have that changed?”

“No. Of course not.” Cas shook his head, relief slowly spreading through his body. Dean wasn’t mad. Dean wasn’t shocked. Dean wasn’t disgusted. Dean’s wasn’t calling him sick.

Dean was agreeing.

“Anything else you want to add to the cart?” Cocky smile spread on his face, crinkles deepened around his eyes. He looked so smug, his smile so suggesting, that he reminded Cas of…

His eyes flew open.

Well.

Strike the iron while it’s hot, right?

Cas hand stretched out to Dean’s hair, shuffled it, tugged at strands, making it easier to check the length. It seemed enough.

“Um, Cas?”

“I want you hair be done like when you had it when you were a demon. I want him lying under me, powerless, not having a right of voice, having to endure what I have for him, even if it is pleasure. I want to feel him defeated.” Cas met Dean’s eyes. “Will you do that for me?”

It was strange, wanting this, but also it seemed… logical. He remembered being scared, feeling at loss, not recognizing the coldness in green eyes. Demon had held too much power, both over Dean and Castiel. Now he was gone, forever, but Cas wanted to defeat his memory properly.

Dean’s grip tightened yet again.

Dean nodded.

***

The spell was a little more intricate than, say, drinking a glass of water and reading right words. This spell has to be landed on the right herbs, which were quite difficult to obtain, then the herbs had to be used in a decoction, which would ensure that the next session of sleep (after drinking said decoction) would be influenced by magic. It was a thoughtful spell, the other ones of that kind worked much faster, crueler, making the subject of it fall into sleep instantly. The spell they had chosen let everything go at its usual pace.

Dean kissed him very sweetly right before he couldn’t fight a need to sleep any longer. 

Castiel himself slept during the day, it would be stupid to interrupt what he was intended to do just because he too needed sleep. He laid there, Dean in his arms, his breathing becoming slower and slower, until it became so shallow Cas almost panicked, but spell book said it was normal, the body would have enough amount of air, just as the heart would work at the speed that is enough for every organ to work properly.

Dean felt like a puppet in his arms, living lukewarm puppet with a slow heartbeat and cold fingertips. When Cas stood up from the bed, Dean’s had bobbed to the right side quickly, with no support from the neck or Cas’ hand. Castiel put his hand on Dean’s chest, checking for heartbeat again. It was there, slow and steady, calming him down.

Cas stripped of his clothes, grabbed a bottle of lube from the nightstand and returned to the bed, sitting beside Dean. He was lying right in the center, still fully clothed. It was one of the things Castiel wanted to do himself.

His hands started with small buttons on Dean’s plaid shirt, undoing them one by one. The plaid revealed dark grey T-shirt with a low neckline, and Cas traced his fingers over collarbones. His hands slid up, caressed the neck, then grabbed shoulders. He lifted Dean up, and when Dean’s face bumped into his shoulder hard, his upper body falling over him, then Cas finally realized how… unusual and fascinating that was.

Cas leaned forward, trying to compensate the weight of Dean, tugged shirt down a little, freed one arm from the sleeve, then the other. He once had helped Dean take off his shirt when his right arm was broken, but it was different: that time Dean had tried to help him, wiggled his arm, this time Castiel was on his own.

After the plaid came T-shirt, which was easier to take off, he just had to drug it up the body, although he had to use his head to hold Dean’s arms up for a second. But it was rewarding. Cas gently laid Dean’s body back, his head on the pillow, and caressed his stomach (or, how he liked to call privately, tummy, because after the months without hunts it had become soft and a little bit squishy), dipped a finger into the navel. He played with nipples for five minutes straight, pinching them, squeezed, used nails, and he was very happy to see them staying soft.

When Cas hands touched the waistband of jeans, he felt the saliva flooding his mouth. Excitement filled him, coercing him to speed up, but he didn’t want to change the pace. Slowly, very slowly, he freed the button from the loop, and even more slowly guided the fly down. He carefully tugged scratchy fabric down, making sure pants stayed in place, gulped the saliva down his throat. Such simple action as sliding jeans down, freeing his favorite bowlegs from fabric, made him let out shuttered breath. The intimacy was too much.

Finally, jeans hit the floor with a low thump. Cas crawled up the bed and moaned when he got a good look of Dean’s pants. Boyshorts, he was wearing boyshorts. Plain black and soft, lovingly showing the bulge of Dean’s unerect cock. With a great struggle, Cas made himself look up, his gaze landing on Dean’s face. It was like a mask, not even lashes were trembling. A single strand fell on the forehead, free from the generous amount of gel used to form the hairstyle. 

Not stopping himself any longer, Cas buried his face in Dean’s crotch, taking a deep breath, his nose tracing the edges of black fabric. Usually, Dean would gasp and spread his legs on instinct, but now it was Cas’ job to grip Dean’s thighs and move them. He dipped his head as far down as he could, pressing a kiss to the inner side of a thigh, then another, then kissing the side of the cock through the fabric. He mouthed it, wetting it with saliva, drugged parted lips along, imagining how heavy it would be in his mouth even like this. Dean’s cock didn’t twitch even once, didn’t become hotter like that time in a hotel. It stayed flaccid no matter how many times Cas sucked it or kissed it, and it was wonderful.

But it wasn’t enough, and Cas tugged boyshorts down, inhaling happily at the sight of soft cock. Finally, Dean was naked, presented to him like a beautiful doll. Cas frowned. It was a strange thought to have actually. The whole desire to ravish the unresponsive body of his lover was strange. Castiel loved Dean’s moans and rare mewling sounds, loved his fingers trailing down his spine, loved feeling the vibrations from humming when his cock was deep in Dean’s throat, and, of course, he loves his whispers of affection, loving words or snarky remarks. That who Dean was, all bright, and loud, and willing and eager to please.

The body underneath him, wearing a mask of a demon, was the opposite of everything he just listed.

But he loved it equally. It gave something additional to the feeling of arousal, extra tingling down his spine. Maybe it was a sensation of having unlimited power. Cas didn’t know why he enjoyed stroking soft cock so much, but he did. He didn’t know why the idea of forcefully pushing his fingers into Dean’s mouth, sliding fingers on the inside of his cheeks made his heart beat faster and his cock twitch, but it did.

And the idea of working Dean’s hole open and then sliding into it…

Cas couldn’t stop a moan escaping from his lips; his hand shot up to his cock, grabbed it, and after a couple of hard slow strokes he came. Seconds of physical stimulation were enough to complete the pleasure his fantasies were bringing him. Cas always had a strong imagination. 

Drops of cum fell on Dean’s stomach, and while Cas didn’t really have a cum fetish like his lover, he did what Dean always did: rubbed creamy substance into the skin with circular motions, massaging soft pudgy flesh. 

Cas realized that with temps like this he better start prepping Dean, or he would come again before he would get to the main course. But still, he couldn't waste a chance to feel Dean in his mouth like that. He carefully took Dean's cock into his mouth, soft flesh laying heavy on his tongue. It was so good, his mouth so full, tongue lazily wetting the underside of the cock, his lips right at the base... Cas just let himself lay there, in stillness, enjoying the weight in his mouth. But it was sending strong waves of arousal to his own dick, too strong, so he slowly got up, letting the cock slip out of his mouth, glistening with saliva.

One hand on Dean’s hip, the other at the shoulder, Cas turned him over, carefully adjusting his head on the pillow to the side. He grabbed the free pillow and put it under Dean’s hips, making his ass lift up a bit, and once again spread his legs, this time much wider. 

Dean looked magnificent. Ass cheeks spread wide enough to see his hole, his balls squished into the pillow under his own weight, completely relaxed. Cas took a bottle of lube and poured a generous amount on his fingers and palm. He trailed fingers of the clean hand down from the tailbone to the cleft, over the puckered skin of the hole, down, palmed the balls, and then repeated this trail with the other hand, making sure that most of the lube stayed over and around of rim. He wasn’t really sure how muscles in this area were affected by the spell (and they cleansed the whole body with the other spell just in case), but, theoretically…

The tip of his finger slipped in with ease, then the whole finger, and Cas exhaled. Muscles were well relaxed, but the hole didn’t feel loose, and it was perfect. The second finger entered just as easily, and so did the third, especially with the help of the lube. The preparation wasn’t really needed, it turned out, but damn it was pleasurable. Cas pushed his finger deeper and a little bit down, until he found a little silky bump. He gently scraped the prostate with his fingernail, remembering how Dean cried out each time he did it. No reaction came this time, and Cas mewled softly, planting a kiss on the tailbone.

Cas cock was throbbing again in anticipation, hungry for attention. While Cas was fingering Dean open, he would accidentally slide his cock over a strong thigh, but this wasn’t enough after the first orgasm. And now all his body was trembling.

His cock pushed past the rim with ease, sliding inside in one swift motion till the base, and it felt fantastic. Inside Dean still was hot, but his hole didn’t clench around the cock like it always did and there were no helping motions. Cas was the only one controlling the pace.

One hand across ass cheeks, trying to divide them and make more room, the other clenched at the Dean’s shoulder, Cas pushed his cock inside with quick powerful thrust and pulled out with a slow motion, almost letting the tip past the rim, and he did it again, and again, and again, until he felt too hot, too good, too overwhelmed. Cas moved both hands to the upper parts of Dean thighs, grabbing them tight, and kept them in place with his own thighs and knees, making Dean’s ass go up and closer to his crotch, and started more erratic, almost angry rhythm, pounding already loosened hole mercilessly.

If Dean was awake, he would scream and cry and clench his fist and beg Cas either to let him come or stop, but Dean wasn’t awake, he was just a pliant lukewarm body, dead in Cas hands, taking his cock so easy and good, ready to serve just like a fuckhole forever.

Castiel relished this moment, letting out load moans, listening to the sounds of flesh beating against flesh and slurping sounds of lube and precum pushed in and out with each thrust. He let go of one thigh and trailed his hand up Dean’s spine, his skin dry, no sweat at all, scraped his neck with fingernails and finally buried his fingers in Dean’s hair, tugging dirty blond strands, disrupting it, ruining.

Cas came with a low growl, balls deep inside Dean. He shoved Dean’s thighs forward and at the same time lifted his upper body up, making it bump against his own. He looked over Dean’s shoulder down and smiled at the sight of a flaccid cock, still glistening a little with saliva, but with no traces of precum. Cas cupped it with his hand, smearing the remnants of lube over it.

In one swift motion Cas fell on the bed on his side taking Dean with him, not pulling out. He left a dozen of kisses over Dean’s shoulders, neck, traced the Orion constellation of freckles with his tongue.

He wrapped both hands around Dean, giving himself some more time to enjoy the afterglow and wetness between them before he had to get up and clean them both with wet towels.

Cas just destroyed his demon.

And it was fantastic.

***

Sam entered the kitchen like it was a battlefield. Dean usually started his book-related sex complaints during the breakfast, and Sam preferred to run away. Better hungry than insane.

To his utmost surprise, Dean was nowhere to be seen, but Cas was eating a sandwich at the table. Sam checked the clock. Nine in the morning. Since when…?

“Good morning, Sam. You would be pleased to know that you suffering is over.”

“Really? You used the book? Fucking finally!”

Cas nodded and pushed a bowl of porridge with fruits towards Sam. 

“Your intervention yesterday was proofed to be quite successful, thank you. You gave a good advice.”

“I did?” Sam answered, amused, trying to remember, what he had said besides ‘use the fucking book’. Something about turning in-

Sam froze. Cas nodded again.

“We followed your advice to the letter.”

“You did?” Sam squawked. 

“Of course. Who would have though having your adolescent body impaled by a hermaphrodite horse can be that pleasurable?”

Dean entered kitchen quite at time to see his brother fainting.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta-ed. If you, dear reader, are ready to help me and beta this fic, please, write to me via comments or Tumblr http://imyaslavie.tumblr.com/ (:
> 
> PS: if you have any ideas for spells you want to see, leave a comment :)


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